


The Wind Has Come

by Smalls2233



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bounty Hunters, Alternate Universe - Western, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Peter Hale, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Snowed In, Supernatural bounty hunting, Top Chris Argent, Vampire sex venom, or more of a mutual dislike to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smalls2233/pseuds/Smalls2233
Summary: Chris looked from the bounty sheet he had been given, up to Sheriff Stilinski, and back to the sheet. A feeling that he could best describe as disbelief flickered through him and he couldn’t help the scowl that crossed his face.“I’m not working with a werewolf,” he said after a few moments. His wife had been slaughtered by a werewolf years ago and then his daughter by an oni. He didn’t work with supernaturals, not after everything they’ve taken from him.But if he didn’t accept the job, Chris wouldn’t get paid.----After the Hale Pack's emissary is killed by a vampire, Chris and Peter are forced to work together to hunt it down and kill it.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

Chris looked from the bounty sheet he had been given, up to Sheriff Stilinski, and back to the sheet. A feeling that he could best describe as disbelief flickered through him and he couldn’t help the scowl that crossed his face.

“I’m not working with a werewolf,” he said after a few moments. His wife had been slaughtered by a werewolf years ago and then his daughter by an oni. He didn’t work with supernaturals, not after everything they’ve taken from him.

Stilinski let out a laugh that was more a puff of air through his nose than anything. “The Hale pack has a claim on this vamp’s head since she ki—“ He broke off and had to take a breath. “Since she killed their emissary. I can find another hunter, but I’d prefer if it were you.”

Chris knew it wasn’t as easy as finding another hunter. A good number of folks passed through Beacon Hills on their way west but only a few knew of the supernatural, fewer still were hunters.

But if he didn’t accept the job, Chris wouldn’t get paid. That and the murdered emissary was Stilinski’s wife. The two men weren’t close friends but Stilinski was the only one who had offered Chris work after his father had blacklisted him in damn near every town in the west. Out east it was even worse, Gerard had framed him for the death of his sister and he was a wanted man. If he stepped a single foot east of the Mississippi he’d be hanging in the breeze without a doubt.

“I’ll take the job. But I’m not doing this for the Hale pack, Stilinski, I’m doing this as a favor for you.”

“Either way, I appreciate it. She seems to be alone, no coven of bloodsuckers. I’ll let Peter know you accepted the bounty and get him in touch with you.” Stilinski stood up and shook Chris’s hand. “Try to come back having only killed the vamp,” he added with a wry grin.

Chris couldn’t help the face he made. Talia Hale, he begrudgingly respected. She was a fair alpha and ran her pack well. She kept them from being murderers like so many other werewolf packs were. Peter, on the other hand, Chris didn’t trust at all. He was a snake through and through, a master manipulator who only stayed on the right side of the law — collecting bounties and taking down gangs for the sheriff — because he was able to profit more on exploiting the ruined gangs than he would by running them himself.

“Try not to ask for too many miracles there, Sheriff,” Chris replied dryly. He shook his head slightly, “I’ll work with him but if he comes back with a wolfsbane laced bullet stuck in his ribs, I can’t be held responsible.”

Stilinski laughed, “We’ll see about that.”

——

Apparently when Stilinski said he would tell Peter, he meant that he was going to do it immediately. At least, that’s what Chris could only assume had happened when he came back to his home to see Peter sitting at his table, flipping through one of his hunting journals.

Before he even processed who was there, Chris had his revolver out and pointed directly at Peter’s head.

“While this isn’t the first time I’ve been greeted by having guns pointed at me, I had expected a warmer welcome from my current business partner,” Peter hummed as he looked up from the journal. “You keep meticulous notes, by the way. I’m absolutely fascinated by the technique you used to kill a kelpie.”

Peter’s tone had enough of a hint of sarcasm to let Chris know that he was being made fun of. He had to put in effort to keep his expression neutral. “Usually, people wait to be let into a stranger’s home,” he said flatly, gun still pointed at Peter as if he was still debating whether or not to shoot him. It would serve him right for breaking into his home, honestly. “I would appreciate you putting my journal down.”

Peter quirked a brow and made a show of closing the journal. “Wouldn’t want to offend such a talented hunter.” He stood up and let his slight smirk fall from his face. “I suppose we should clarify a few things here; I would rather not be working with you either but unfortunately the Sheriff wills it differently than either of us wish for. I also know your reputation just as well as you know mine and I would prefer to not wake up one morning with a knife between my ribs.”

Chris narrowed his eyes and holstered his gun before he could be tempted to shoot the werewolf. “My father is responsible for much of my reputation. I didn’t murder my sister and I follow the code. If you don’t provide a reason to make me think you’re in need of being put down, I won’t have to kill you.”

“How reassuring, I’m sure to sleep soundly knowing I have such a brave hunter looking out for me.” A sneer stretched across Peter’s face. “Understand that if you do anything that makes me think that you might be living up to your family name, I’ll not hesitate to rip out your throat.”

The tone of Peter’s voice was as cold as his icy eyes. He stared at Chris for a few long moments before speaking again, “Rest up, Christopher. I plan on leaving at dawn.”

Chris bit off a comment about how he might already be resting had it not been for the werewolf invading his home. He knew that sort of comment would only bring forward more ire from Peter, so he kept his tone curt and words short, “I’ll be at the stables in the morning, ready to ride.”

“Be sure that you are.” 

——

At daybreak, there was a chill in the air that made Chris nervous. The sight of the sky didn’t make him feel much better, not with how the clouds hung heavy and dark. There was going to be a blizzard, one bad enough that it might give the bloodsucker that killed Claudia Stilinski a chance to escape.

But Chris had hunted alone in worse than a blizzard. He just made sure to pack extra supplies since he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be back until the coming snow melted enough to pass back through. What also would help, though he was loathe to admit, was Peter himself. Werewolves were excellent trackers and when they had a scent, they could track even in the most dismal of conditions.

Stilinski was at the stables when he got there, bundled up in a thick coat and gloves. “Sky’s promising a storm,” he said in greeting, mouth set in a deep frown. “As far as I know, the vamp’s holed up not even five miles from here, but if the snow gets too bad getting to her might be impossible.”

“I’m not too worried about getting to her,” Chris replied. He looked to the sky and matched Stilinksi’s frown when he looked at the first few flakes of snow start to drift down from the sky. “Getting back might be the problem. I’m hoping her hideout is something that can keep the worst of the wind and snow out because I might be trapped there until the storm lets up.”

“God forbid.” Stilinski let out a small chuckle. “Holed up with Peter Hale in a blizzard? Can’t say I envy you there.”

“I’d say if luck was on my side, we’d be back today, but I’m fairly certain luck purposefully sides against me.” He couldn’t remember the last time something favorable happened to him by chance. “So I like to prepare for the worst case scenario since god knows that happens enough to me.”

“Well,” Stilinski clasped Chris on the shoulder and handed him a small satchel. “I’ve got to head back to the station, but I wanted to meet you here before you head out. That satchel has a few things you might find helpful; some tinder that’ll light a fire no matter how wet the wood is and some travel food, Claudia liked to call it that at least. It’s none too pleasant tasting, but it’ll keep you full.”

“I appreciate it,” Chris said as he took the satchel from Stilinski and tied it to his belt. “If there’s anything good that’ll come from this blizzard, at least the vamp’ll be just as trapped as us.”

“Way to look on the bright side.” Stilinski nodded as he started to walk off. “If we don’t see you or Hale after the snow starts to melt, we’ll send a search party out.”

Chris bit back a response on how they might need to bring a wagon to cart back his or Peter’s body back in. He felt like if he joked about that, the fates might actually decide that it sounded like a great idea. So instead he headed into the stable to ready up his mare, Blaze.

“There’s a good girl.” Chris took off his gloves to stroke Blaze’s velvety nose. He chuckled softly as she whinnied in response, obviously looking for some sort of treat.

“Here you go.” Chris held out a carrot for her to take as he opened up the door to her stall so he could get her ready to ride out. She was a fairly large horse, one used to the heavy snow and cold weather that Beacon Hills tended to be under for a good portion of the year. She had a sweet temperament and was hard to spook too, which Chris thought just might have been her best trait. He had lost horses in the past on hunts when they just couldn’t handle the overwhelming presences that some supernaturals tended to have.

“How many horses have you broken, Christopher?” Peter was leaning against the door of an empty stall. “I can’t say I care much for horses that have already been broken and tamed, but I adore breaking them in.”

Chris unsuccessfully fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Good morning, Peter.” He decided ignoring Peter’s comments was going to be his best chance of getting out of this hunt without murdering a prominent member of the Hale pack.

“I want to be on the trail as soon as possible,” Peter said. He pushed himself off the door and kept pace with Chris. “I’ll be on foot and I don’t fancy making a path through chest deep snow.”

“You aren’t riding?” Chris was shocked despite himself.

“Horses — actually, most animals — and werewolves don’t tend to get along. Anyway, it’s easier for me to be on the ground anyway, it’s easier to follow scent trails that way.” Peter handed Chris several bags as he spoke. “I’d appreciate it if you loaded these on with your saddlebags.” 

Chris took the bags with a frown. “I don’t want to overburden Blaze, this hunt will already be taxing enough on her.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’ll be carrying the majority of my items then,” Peter replied. He motioned towards something that looked like a modified harness, already loaded up with packed saddlebags. 

Realization dawned on Chris as he looked at the harness. “You can fully shift? I didn’t think anyone aside from your alpha was capable of that.” Saying he was surprised was an understatement. The true shift was a rare feat with werewolves.

“We tend to keep our secrets close to our chest, especially when it comes to hunters. Can’t exactly trust the men who’d kill us as soon as they think we’re an inconvenience.” The words carried a harsh bite to them and an underlying bitterness to them that made Chris force himself to hold back a wince.

“I hunt down murderers, I don’t kill supernaturals for the crime of not being human,” Chris said, made to feel defensive by Peter’s accusatory words. “And don’t try and claim that werewolves are all perfect angels, persecuted by the evil hunters. There are countless packs of werewolves led by murderers, convinced that hunting humans is their right as the superior species.  _ Those _ are the monsters I hunt, the ones that are dangers to everyone.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Dangerous tends to be a slippery slope to base your judgement on. How long will you think that it’s only the ones who have actively killed innocents? When will it become that you slaughter the ones who could one day become murderers?”

“I told you this yesterday, Peter, I’m not my father.” Chris’s hands tightened into fists by his side and his words came out as a low growl. “I know where the line is and I’ve yet to cross it. If I ever stoop to murdering people who haven’t done anything wrong, feel free to rip my throat. But until that day comes, you can stop with your digging.”

The look on Peter’s face said that this wasn’t the last of their conversation. But all he said was, “Fair enough.”

——

For all of Peter’s faults, Chris was happy to be behind him as they broke trail. Fully shifted, Peter was damn near the size of Blaze and his massive paws stamped out a clear path in the snow for the horse to trot through.

It went against all of Chris’s instincts to follow behind a werewolf, especially one as massive and powerful as Peter was. But when two hours passed without them even making it to the halfway point thanks to the worsening storm, he had to be begrudgingly grateful for Peter’s sure steps and unerring accuracy at staying on the trail.

He also had to be grateful for Peter’s silence. That might have been the greatest benefit to come from his shifted form. Without a human mouth, he couldn’t speak and Chris found himself enjoying Peter’s companionship so much more without his never ending need to antagonize everyone in the room. If Chris ignored the sheer size of Peter, he could almost pretend that he was just out hunting with a dog.

Almost.

There was no ignoring Peter’s size or the powerful muscles that flexed under thick fur with each step. At the ends of each paw were massive claws which, at the moment, might have been helping Peter keep his footing on ice and snow but they had the ability to rend through flesh and muscle like a hot knife through butter. Every inch of the werewolf was a predator, the type that made Chris feel some primal fear at the back of his head.

Chris tightened his grip on the reins and took a deep breath to clear his mind. Peter wasn’t his enemy, at least not at the moment. Peter wasn’t an animal ruled by his instincts, and neither was he. He wouldn’t give into the irrational fear because no matter how much of a predator Peter was or how capricious his moods could be, at the end of the day Peter had never shown himself to be a true threat. Even with the killer blue of his eyes, Chris had never heard word that Peter had hunted innocents like so many feral wolves.

His enemy was the vampire who murdered Claudia Stilinski.

“I’m worried about our pace.” Chris had to yell to be heard over the wind. “If this storm continues on this way, I don’t know if we’ll be able to get to where the vamp’s holed up.”

It felt almost unnatural how bad the storm had gotten. He had been in Beacon Hills for nearly a decade and never had a blizzard gotten so bad so fast. Over the past two hours nearly six inches of snow had already accumulated with no sign of slowing down. If it hadn’t been for the lanterns on Peter and Blaze, he wasn’t sure if he even would have been able to keep track of Peter’s dark form. 

Peter turned his massive head towards Chris and let out a huffing noise before stopping in his tracks. Chris had to pull hard on the reins to stop Blaze from running into him. As Peter walked to his side his form shifted from four legged to two.

“There’s a cave up ahead in about a quarter mile,” Peter said with a deep frown. “I think the vamp has a witch building up this storm. I don’t think it’s going to calm down any time soon.”

“Will we have to worry about her getting away?”

Peter shook his head. “The pack won’t let that happen. I might be the one here with you but most of the pack is patrolling the mountain. She’s trapped in the storm the same as us.”

Chris nodded as Peter shifted back to his lupine form. “Lead the way,” he said. He had enough supplies to wait out the storm and he was fairly certain that if need be, he could force Peter to hunt down a deer to feed them. He didn’t want to be put in Peter’s debt but if he was between that and starving to death, he’d take owing Peter a favor.

Peter took off and Chris followed at a gallop. The long, loping strides of Peter’s shifted form were elegance personified. As dangerous as he was, there was a true beauty in his lupine body. Beauty and danger came together with werewolves who could complete a true shift like those in the Hale pack.

Chris followed behind Peter for another twenty minutes as the blizzard intensified. The snow was nearly a foot deep at this point and despite his layers, Chris’s teeth were chattering. Peter was right, there was nothing natural about this storm. 

At the cave, Chris hopped off his horse and pulled her in, wanting to keep her out of the cold. It wasn’t a large cave but it was big enough that towards the back end, the ground was clear of snow. The wind still made its way in but if he got a fire going he should be fine.

Chris got to work pulling the saddle off of Blaze and getting everything situated. They were going to be stuck there for at least a day, probably up to three or four so he needed to get it at least somewhat livable. Along with his bed roll, Chris kept several thick wool blankets in his saddlebags so he laid them all out on the floor of the cave, trying to give him some protection against the cold ground.

He wished there was something he could hang a tarp on to block out the wind, but the walls and the roof of the cave were smooth and unblemished. The most he had were a few larger rocks he could tie Blaze to and lay out his coat to dry.

Peter trotted into the cave with what looked to be a small tree held in his mouth. He was half carrying, half dragging it and Chris let out a snort of amusement despite himself. All of the werewolf’s elegance was gone. He looked more like an overexcited retriever than a vicious predator.

“I can’t smell anything out there, the snow’s too thick.” Peter shifted from four to two legs and frowned at Chris. He set his pack down and pulled a pair of pants and a thick shirt from it. “I’m thinking the storm should let up before morning hits.”

“Even if it lets up then, the snow will be too deep for us to do anything,” Chris replied. He averted his eyes as Peter got dressed. Werewolves might be casual about nudity but he had the shame of a human. “Are you sure she won’t be able to get away?”

“Vampires are even worse in the cold than humans. They might not be able to go out in the sun but they still need the heat from it. If she goes out, she’ll be a brick of ice.” Now clothed, Peter searched through his pack to find a hatchet and began breaking the tree down into smaller logs, ready for a fire. “I bet that if I kept running, I’d be able to smell the smoke of a fire at her cabin— if it weren’t for this damn blizzard I could probably smell it from here.”

Chris ran a hand down the scruff of his jaw and frowned. He knew vampires were attracted to warmth; it was part of why they drank blood, but he wasn’t confident that the vamp was as trapped as Peter thought.

Well, he just had to hope she was. They weren’t going anywhere until the snow calmed down. 

Chris wasn’t sure when exactly that would be. Hours passed, when the sun set for the night, the snow was still coming down.

Along with the snow came the cold, even with the roaring fire Chris couldn’t get warm. The cave was better than sitting out in the open but it provided little protection from the whistling wind. The snow didn’t reach the far back of the cave but the wind did. Piercingly cold, it tore through his thick coat and layers of clothes and blankets.

“If your teeth chatter any harder, one of them is going to break,” Peter drawled out. He didn’t seem cold at all, even in clothes fit for weather thirty degrees warmer. 

Fucking werewolves.

“Some of us are affected by the cold,” Chris said sharply in response. The only part of him that was warm were his hands. They were wrapped in thick, fur lined gloves and held an inch in front of the fire. Chris was half tempted to throw himself into the fire to warm himself up.

“Humans are so fragile, it’s honestly impressive that as a species, you’ve been able to survive for so long.” Peter laid back against his bags and raised his brows, looking at Chris. He looked like the portrait of comfort, like he was lounging in excess. Not on the floor of a cave in the middle of a blizzard.

Chris let him repeat himself, fucking werewolves. 

“Instead of being an ass, do you think maybe you could do something useful?” Chris spat out. “Maybe tell me if you have any more blankets or anything?”

“The big bad hunter, reduced to begging a werewolf for blankets. Of which — might I add — I only have the one I’m laying on.”

“Give me the blanket.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “One more blanket isn’t going to save you from hypothermia.” He sat up and frowned. “For the love of god, if you try and shoot me I’m going to eat you.”

Before Chris could even process what the fuck Peter just said, Peter was up and stripping. Quickly, he averted his gaze to avoid getting an eyeful, drawing out a snort from Peter.

By the time he looked back, he realized why Peter said not to shoot him. He was fully shifted and Chris had to fight the urge to go for his gun. Sitting down, he was almost level with Peter’s massive maw and it made every hair on his body stand on edge.

But Peter didn’t move to attack him. He let out a chuffing noise that sounded more amused than anything. He padded over to Chris, paws near silent on the hard ground. When next to him, he leaned down to nose at Chris to get him to move back from the fire.

“Moving away from the fire seems counterproductive,” Chris said, refusing to move.

The next chuff from Peter sounded annoyed. He wrapped huge, sharp teeth around the back of Chris’s shirt and tugged him back, insistent on Chris pulling away from the fire. 

Rather than risk his shirt being torn and his flesh being the next thing for Peter to bite, Chris moved backwards with a scowl. The added distance from the fire seemed to intensify the chill exponentially.

But soon Chris understood why Peter pulled him back. The cold was replaced with an almost furnace-like heat as Peter curled up around him. Chris couldn’t help the noise of relief he made as he finally, finally felt warm for the first time all day.

“Shut up, Peter,” Chris said as Peter rumbled in amusement. “You reek of wet dog.”

Damp dog, really, still unpleasant but not as overwhelming as it would have been if Peter were soaked. But Chris would take the reek over losing a toe or a finger. The hit to his pride, snuggling up with a damn  _ werewolf  _ — and not just any werewolf, a pack’s left hand for God’s sake — hurt, but his pride never got him anywhere.

“Wake me up when the snow stops,” Chris said. He leaned back cautiously against Peter. Even with the thick fur, he could still feel Peter’s thick muscle, a testament to just how powerful a werewolf was. He forced himself not to dwell too long on that train of thought. If he worked himself into anxiety over the dangers of sleeping next to a fully shifted werewolf, he’d never be able to sleep.

Chris let out a slow breath and closed his eyes. Compartmentalize, he could do that. If there was one good thing he learned from his family, it was how to shove unpleasant thoughts in a box in the corner of his mind. Thinking about the dangers of werewolves wouldn’t help him, what he needed was to sleep and stay warm. He wasn’t going to stay warm without Peter, unfortunately, so he needed the werewolf’s presence.

After some time, sleep managed to overtake Chris. It was a dreamless sleep, thankfully, with no werewolves or vampires haunting him.

When he woke up, Peter was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

It took three more days in the cave before they were able to leave. The snow stopped on the afternoon of the second day but the wind kicked up the three feet of powdery snow enough that visibility was still near zero for those few days. 

On the third day, the conditions weren’t much better but Chris was antsy and ready to get going. He didn’t like sitting around doing nothing, cuddled up next to a goddamn werewolf for warmth, while a murderous vampire was out and about. Even though Peter assured him there was no way she was going anywhere, he still had a bad feeling that if they waited too long, she’d get away.

So they slowly made their way through the thick blanket of snow. The biting wind occasionally slowed its squall down enough that Chris could see the mountains that surrounded them, but for the most part, his vision was limited to maybe a hundred yards. Still, that was more than he had been able to see even the day before and — as loathe as he was to admit it — having Peter by his side meant that he wouldn’t lose the trail of the vamp.

He had begrudgingly gotten used to Peter’s presence over the past several days. Even if the size of Peter’s shifted form still set him on edge, he had become a welcome addition. It helped that Peter stayed shifted as well, only shifting back to his human form to discuss making a move on the vampire.

Peter’s wolf form had two main benefits: he was warm and he couldn’t speak. Chris was perfectly content to spend the three days in silence. He wasn’t much of a talker to begin with and Peter wasn’t what he considered pleasant company to converse with. So he’d take the massive fangs and claws and powerful muscles that made his hand reach for his six shooter over a smart mouth that was just begging for a fist.

“I think I see the cabin,” Chris announced after they had been going for a few hours. It was one of the rare moments when the wind was calm and he could see a fair distance away. Maybe about half a mile away he could see a brown smudge that was too uniform to be anything natural. 

“If we keep the pace we’re going, we’ll be there within the hour,” he continued on. Even with Peter trudging a path through the snow for his horse to walk through, their pace was painfully slow. The frigid weather made the ground slick and the last thing Chris wanted was to have to shoot Blaze if she broke a leg on the ice and snow.

Peter wagged his tail ever so slightly and snorted in what Chris took to be an affirmative. 

They were nearly there. 

——

“There’s nothing I love more than shitty old cabins,” Peter drawled as he stated at the rickety cabin the vampire was holed up in. He had shed his lupine skin maybe fifty yards back and was surveying the cabin with arms crossed against his chest.

“She in there?” Chris asked and hopped off his horse. He tied Blaze to a lean-to attached to the main body of the cabin that looked like it was one good gust of wind from detaching from the cabin, but it was better than leaving her in the direct wind.

“I can smell the rot, she’s there.” A frown was plastered on Peter’s face and he ran his thumb along his claws. He walked towards the cabin and inspected it. “She’s asleep I think, I don’t hear any movement.”

“Think we’d be lucky enough to stake her in her sleep?” Chris asked, knowing fully well that he’d never be that lucky. No, there was a fight coming, no doubt about it.

“She’ll sense our body heat as soon as we open that door.” 

“Unfortunate.” Chris pulled a satchel out of his saddlebags. It held his usual hunting gear plus some stakes. Vamps were hard to kill, the only options were removing their head or destroying their heart. Even if they lost an arm or a leg, they could regenerate it within a month if they fed well enough. 

There was always direct sunlight too, but she had just fed and the sun was covered with thick clouds. Maybe if she was starving, the dimmed sunlight would have been enough to burn her to ashes but as it was, it would only be a minor annoyance. 

Peter grunted out his agreement as he rolled his shoulders and shifted into his beta form. Really the ideal would have been for him to be in his true shift but beggars and choosers tended to be mutually exclusive.

“I’ll go in first. She’s less likely to try and bite a werewolf,” Peter said. His words were slurred by the massive fangs that protruded from his lips. “Do I need to remind you how deadly vampires are?”

Chris rolled his eyes at Peter’s sarcastic tone. “I’m well aware.” Usually, he tried to avoid vampire bounties if he could help it. They were more trouble than they were worth and, by and large, most vamps tended to feed reasonably, taking no more blood than they needed to satiate their hunger. There was no reason to risk his life to go after a gigantic mosquito. 

But this vampire was different, she was a murderer. She hadn’t needed to drain Claudia Stilinski dry but she decided to gorge. So she needed to die before she could kill again, simple as that. 

“Well, then what are we waiting for?” Peter asked as he stalked off to the door. “I think we need to make sure this goddamned leach knows that killing a member of the Hale pack isn’t something that goes unpunished.” His eyes flashed angrily as he spat out those words and his hands curled.

“Claudia was a good woman, she didn’t deserve this,” Chris said in agreement. As he followed Peter he grabbed a stake out of his satchel. It was just simple, sharpened wood, but it was one of the best tools to kill a vamp. It was made out of mountain ash so it would just burn up the heart, making sure the vampire stayed dead. 

“That, you and I can agree on.” Peter kicked open the front door of the cabin with a snarl. 

“Nobody fucks with the Hale pack and gets away with it.” He wasn’t exactly screaming, the words actually came out in a voice hardly above an angry whisper. But the snarl that went along with Peter’s words was loud enough that it felt like it shook the rickety cabin. “ _ Nobody _ .”

It wasn’t exactly the subtle entrance Chris usually preferred to make, but okay, sure, go ahead Peter.

He followed behind Peter, gratefully noting that the door was still on its hinges, if only barely. The interior of the cabin was just as decrepit as its outside. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and cobwebs and the wooden table looked like it was about to collapse, it was so rotten.

Chris saw movement out of the corner of his eye and so he spun around to see the vampire rising from the pile of nasty cloth she had been using as a bad. She was one ugly son of a bitch. Pretty much any vamp that gorged instead of regularly feeding was — the blood tended to thicken and congeal into a tar-like substance in their veins and their flesh withered like old leather and sunk in under the eyes and cheeks like a corpse. If it weren’t for her glowing red eyes and snake-like fangs, Chris might have mistaken her for a ghoul at first sight.

But even then, that impression would only have lasted for a brief second. The way she moved was unmistakably vampiric; jerky, but not shambling, it was more like an insect. She moved with quick, jerky motions and her head was constantly moving, chin raised, showing heat pits like a viper that belied her poor eyesight. 

Peter was terrifying because when Chris looked at his shifted form, he knew exactly what he was looking at and how powerful he was. He could become a giant wolf the size of a small horse with all of the strength and heightened senses that came along with that.

But when Chris looked at the vampire? She was terrifying in an entirely different way. She was entirely alien, her frame was frail and sickly in a way that made her seem weak. Despite all of that, Chris knew that she was far, far stronger than he was. She likely rivaled Peter in strength.

Chris wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was about a hundred times more afraid of her than he was of Peter.

The vampire hissed, baring her massive fangs. Venom was already dripping from them, thick and milky and Chris shuddered at the thought of being incapacitated by it. Aside from killing the vamp, his main goal was to avoid letting her fangs latch into his skin.

Chris tightened his grip around the stake in his hand as Peter snarled back at the vamp. His only option to kill the vampire was with a stake through her heart. Only Peter had the strength to rip her head off. Neither option was going to be easy.

The vampire lunged first, talon-like nails outreached at Chris. He dodged just narrowly, pressing himself against the wall. She passed by him, close enough that he could smell the rot that followed her. He fought back the urge to gag as he lashed out with a kick in an attempt to trip her up.

The kick sent her stumbling forward against the table but she managed to remain on her feet. Really it seemed to piss her off more than anything. 

Whoops.

Chris still pressed that small advantage. He pushed himself off the wall and grabbed one of the rickety old chairs from alongside the table. While the vampire was still regaining her balance, he slammed her withered face with it, shattering the rotten, old wood. 

Peter ran forward as the shattered pieces of wood rained onto the ground. He grabbed hold of one of her stick thin arms and threw her against the brick of the fireplace. The entire cabin shook with the impact, enough that Chris was afraid that it might fall apart.

But the cabin stayed standing, and unfortunately, the vamp was as well. She stood up with a fine layer of crumbled brick all over her back and matted hair. She bared her teeth in a furious snarl. Venom laced spittle tracked down her chin, it was disgusting.

She went for Chris again but Peter slammed into her before she even made it halfway. Chris hoped that maybe that would be that and Peter would rip her godforsaken throat out, but of course he wasn’t that lucky.

The vamp spun around right before Peter connected and the two landed in a grapple of gnashing teeth. Peter managed to rip a chunk of her shoulder out and in return, he got a nasty bite into his neck. She didn’t stay latched in for long but it was enough that Chris winced in sympathy, any amount of vamp venom in a system was nasty.

Peter stumbled to the ground, disoriented and the vampire managed to get on top of him and lashed out with her nasty talon-like nails. Again and again she scratched into him, sending blood flying.

For the moment she was distracted and Chris charged, stake held firmly in his hand. He thought that maybe he had his chance when both of her hands were buried in Peter’s shoulders. But he was too slow, humanly slow. As he slammed the stake down towards her back, she ripped a hand free of Peter’s shoulder, tearing through skin and muscle, and caught the sharpened piece of wood just before it could pierce the leathery flesh of her back.

She wrenched the stake from his hand and threw him across the cabin. The air was knocked from his lungs as he collided with the rickety wall and he collapsed with a pained noise. He hardly hit the floor before she was on top of him. He had to fight to keep her teeth from ripping into his throat.

Chris punched at her throat once, twice, and again to little use. She didn’t even cough, though he was gagging at the smell of rot that radiated off of her. 

He had always thought vampires were supposed to smell of nothing, it was one of their tools of survival. They were vulnerable for so much of the day so they had to be able to hide from everything. But that must have been for vampires that didn’t kill as they fed, didn’t gorge themselves and let the blood rot and congeal in their veins. The vampire reeked of death and decay. 

Chris rolled out of the way when the vamp tried to bite down on him again. But it wasn’t fast enough, it wasn't far enough. He felt sharp fangs penetrate his skin, tearing open the thin flesh of his wrist.

Almost instantly he could feel the burn of her venom. She had barely bitten him yet it felt like his wrist was on fire. Shit, she was going to enter a frenzy at the taste and smell of his blood. Werewolf blood wouldn’t set her off, but human blood? It was worse than getting a nose bleed with a shark around.

But a second bite never came. 

Before she could bite down again, a clawed hand ripped through her back and straight through her chest. Sticky, rotten blood splattered Chris’s chest as Peter ripped through her chest and pulled his hand back out, taking her shriveled heart out.

It wasn’t a stake through the heart but it was just as good. Without Peter’s arm holding her up, her lifeless body collapsed directly onto Chris. 

“How unpleasant,” Peter hummed as he walked towards his saddle bags. 

Chris shoved the corpse off of him, shuddering as more of her rotten blood leaked out onto him. He wanted to scream. Of fucking course he had to get bit by the bloodsucker. She couldn’t go down without inflicting him with one last fuck you.

The burn of her venom was tracking through his veins and his arm tensed up. First it was just the wrist and now his entire forearm felt like it was on fire. “Tear off a strip of cloth and tie my arm up so the venom doesn’t spread,” Chris snapped, trying to calm down his heart to gain more time. Vampire venom wasn’t deadly and he wasn’t going to turn from such a quick bite, but it was incapacitating in the worst possible way. He wrapped his other hand around his bicep and squeezed, hoping that it would suffice until he and Peter fashioned a tourniquet around his arm. 

“We both know that’s not gonna work,” Peter said as he wiped the blood from his forearm and hand with a towel from his bags. He was totally fine, the shredded muscles of his shoulders and every other wound had already healed up, leaving only shredded and bloodied cloth to show that they were ever there.

There was also nothing but cool, detached interest in Peter’s eyes as he looked down at Chris. He had none of the unrestrained need that Chris would have expected from a man who was bitten so deeply by a vamp. “You know, I’ve never gotten to see the effects of vampire venom first hand before— it doesn’t affect werewolves and I don’t tend to spend much time with humans after all.”

Ah, so that was why. 

Peter grabbed a few glass vials from one of his saddlebags and uncapped then as he walked up to the vampire’s corpse. “It’s a shame she wasted some of her venom on us. You wouldn’t believe how much this stuff sells for.” He forced open the dead vampire’s jaw and held an empty vial under one of her fangs.

Watching Peter extract the venom was like watching a man milk a snake. He had all the efficiency of someone who had done it hundreds of times. It made Chris wonder what all Peter did beyond hunting bounties. If he was this experienced with extracting vampire venom, there was no telling what other supernatural materials he sold.

“You’re lucky she only got you with a small bite. Vamps tend to keep victims around by getting them addicted to the venom.” When the first vial was filled, Peter quickly replaced it with another. “It only takes a small amount for most humans to get addicted, but you have a stronger will than most, don’t you Christopher?”

Chris grit his teeth and glared at Peter. “If you know so much about vampire venom, how about you help me out here?”

“Be careful what you ask for.” Peter’s grin was lecherous. “Because I know enough that I can tell you that there’s only one way I can help you out here.” He swapped the vial to the other fang to finish filling it up.

Peter filled up two more vials with the milky venom of the vampire while Chris laid against the wall, sweating despite the cold. He could feel the need building in him as his attempts to fight it back grew distressingly futile. His chest blazed as the venom made its way through his veins and he dropped his hand from his bicep. Trying to stop the spread had been useless.

“The brothel in the next town over pays good coin for the venom I sell. I have a few vamps that owe me and I like to collect on that debt through their venom,” Peter said conversationally. He carefully wrapped up each of the vials before putting them back in his saddle bag and turning to Chris. “The venom helps the brothel’s girls out when they’re getting fucked by disgusting old men with two inch dicks. And then I have the regular old addicts who feel like dying if they go without a hit of venom for too long.”

Peter grabbed the vampire’s corpse and forced the cabin door open, letting in a blast of cold air. He tossed it out to the snow with about as much care as he would give to a sack of potatoes.

The piercingly cold wind barely registered to Chris with how overheated his body felt at the moment. Hell, the only reason he noticed that Peter closed the door was because all of a sudden, Peter knelt in front of him, feeling like a burning furnace.

“You really aren’t looking good, sweetheart,” Peter said as he pinched Chris’s chin between two fingers and forced him to meet his eyes. “Just say the word now and I’ll help you out. If not, well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman and I’ll ignore you as you’re writhing around, out of your mind, begging for me to touch you.”

Chris couldn’t tell what would be more humiliating, letting Peter have his way with him or trying to deal with it on his own while Peter watched — closely watched no doubt. “Never bring this night up again and help me,” he grunted out, feeling resigned to his fate. 

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.” The smug look on Peter’s face made Chris immediately feel like regretting his decision. “Really, there’s no shame in asking for help from a friend, and we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“I’ve half a mind to see how many bullets it takes for your healing to give up when this is all over. If you consider that friendship, then sure.”

To Peter’s credit, the only parts of the situation he was taking advantage of were the chance to sell the vampire venom and the chance to antagonize Chris. It didn’t stop Chris from wanting to wipe the smug look off of Peter’s face but it gave him some relief that Peter wasn’t going to make good on an opportunity to kill him and rid his pack of any potential danger he as a hunter could bring. 

“You should relax, honestly, it’s not like this venom is supposed to be a torturous experience.” Peter patted Chris on the cheek a few times before standing up to toss a few more logs on the fire. “It’s supposed to be quite mind blowing from what I’ve been told.”

“Maybe for the brothel whores it’s a great experience,” Chris said, words coming out in a low growl. “But for me? I doubt you could find a better torture.”

Peter turned around so Chris could see him rolling his eyes. “Oh I’m sure having to get off is the cruelest form of torture ever imagined in your mind.” He wiped the sawdust off of his hands and smirked. “Do I need to rip the gigantic stick out of your ass before we get started or what?”

“Do I need to rip your guts out?”

“God, you are  _ touchy _ .” Peter was enjoying this far, far too much. He stripped free of his shirt and shucked off his pants, revealing a well sculpted body that Chris wanted to ravage.

Ugh. No. He didn’t want to, not really, maybe if the body belonged to anyone other than Peter fucking Hale he would. But with the venom making its way through his system, his body was reacting to the presence of another person. It could be anyone in the room and he’d feel the same urge.

That provided a small amount of relief, but only a small amount. It didn’t change the infuriating fact that the one in the room with him was Peter, but still, small comforts.

“Stop enjoying this so much,” Chris said with a weak snarl. The smugness was radiating off of Peter, stronger than the heat from the fire.

“In my opinion, you could stand to enjoy it a little bit more,” Peter replied with a quirk of his brows. “Honestly, most people would be chomping at the bit to have a roll in the sheets with me.”

“And I’m certain that all of those people have only met the mask of pleasantries you wear for those not in the know.” His blood felt like fire flowing through his veins and he couldn’t keep his heart rate down. Fuck, he was hard, the rough canvas of his pants was painful against his cock. He dug his fingernails into his arms in an attempt to pull his attention away, drawing blood. 

Peter, now totally nude, knelt down next to Chris and pulled his hands off of his arms. “I didn’t realize sleeping with me was worth harming oneself over.”

“I know you, Peter, you don’t give without taking something for yourself.” God, he wanted to lean into Peter, the man’s touch felt blissfully cooling against the fire in his veins. It made it hard to think. “You’re not going to help out a hunter unless you somehow find a way to make it benefit you in the long run.”

The cool gaze Peter fixed Chris with was totally unreadable. “Maybe,” he hummed and began to unbutton the warm flannel shirt Chris wore. The shirt was totally soaked through with sweat at that point.

“Or maybe my angle here is something you haven’t considered yet.” Peter tossed the flannel shirt in front of the fireplace. He didn’t bother to gently take off Chris’s undershirt, instead he just unsheathed a claw and cut it free.

“That doesn’t inspire the faith you think it does.” Chris squeezed his eyes shut and bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from making any embarrassing noises as Peter ran his hands down the sweat-slick sides of his chest. The simple touch felt like lightning running across his skin. 

Fuck vampires. He was charging a premium next time he had to hunt a goddamned leech.

“Get the gun oil out of my saddlebags,” Chris said through gritted teeth.

“Gun oil? Really, Christopher?”

Chris scowled. “Would you rather me rub my dick in your hair to get it lubed up with your hair oil?” 

Even with his eyes closed, Chris could perfectly imagine the face Peter was making as he spoke, “I’m just saying, going straight for the gun oil doesn’t do much to combat your reputation.”

“I’m sorry I don’t go on hunts prepared to have sex.”

“Sounds like an oversight to me,” Peter replied as he rummaged through Chris’s saddlebags. “You sure you don’t want me to just oil up your rifle and fuck you with it? Maybe get a hand cannon for you to stick your dick in?”

“You sure you don’t want me to stuff wolfsbane down your throat?” He was going to kill Peter, he really was.

“How long has it been since you’ve had a roll in the sheets, Christopher? I’d imagine with a personality like yours, it doesn’t happen too much.” Holy  _ shit  _ Peter really was asking to be flayed alive. 

“Shut the fuck up and prepare yourself.” Chris pinched the bridge of his nose to stop himself from doing something violent. “If you think I’m letting you fuck me you’re sorely mistaken.” The idea of handing Peter any more control sounded terrible. The only idea that sounded any worse to him was letting Peter suck him off. Yeah, no way in hell was his dick going anywhere near those fangs.

Peter’s ass on the other hand? Well, okay, if Chris was going to have to deal with leech sex venom, he’d take fucking Peter. There were many men in Beacon Hills that were much uglier than Peter Hale. If he was being honest with himself, there probably weren’t too many men in the country that were better looking. The problem was that Peter tended to ruin any charm that his good looks gave him as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“Presumptuous of you.”

“I swear to god.” If Peter’s plan was to piss him off, it sure as hell was working. 

Chris stood up and scowled at Peter before shucking off his pants. He couldn’t help the hiss of relief he let out as the pressure on his cock finally eased. He felt some small amount of shame edging in the back of his mind but it was easy to ignore with the burning heat running through his veins that screamed at him to just ignore everything and fuck Peter into the ground.

Now that? That was much harder to ignore. As the venom worked its way through his system, focusing on anything but sex became a challenge.

“Just get on the bed.” The bed in question had an old, ratty straw mattress. Just like the rest of the cabin, everything about it had seen better days. Still, beggars can’t be choosers and there wasn’t exactly a wealth of places to fuck Peter at in the cabin. The table  _ would _ have been a viable option had Peter not destroyed it when he slammed the vamp into it. 

Shame.

“If you say so, Mr. Argent,” Peter said with a sarcastic purr. He sprawled himself out on the bed like he was one of the ladies of the brothel, legs spread enough to bare his tight hole and hard cock. 

Chris made an embarrassing noise as Peter brought oil coated fingers to his ass. His legs practically moved on their own, bringing him to the bedside with glazed over eyes. 

“See something that you like?” Peter asked, smug as a snake. Chris’s eyes were locked on the long finger that Peter was slowly sliding into his hole. He needed that to be his finger, his cock, inside of Peter. 

“Give me the oil,” Chris croaked out. Fuck,  _ fuck _ , he was so far gone. If he didn’t have his dick in Peter within the next couple of minutes he was fairly certain that he was going to explode.

Peter tossed him the container of oil and Chris had to force himself not to think of what exactly he was coating his dick and hands with. He made his own gun oil and he knew exactly the ratios of deer tallow, bear grease, and olive oil that went into it. It wasn’t something he was exactly excited about soaking his cock with, but his options were fairly limited.

Those options, for the record, were either fuck Peter dry which would be unpleasant for both of them, not have sex at all, which he was fairly certain he was going to die if he didn’t do that and would likely devolve into him rubbing his dick raw and needing the gun oil anyway, or coat his dick in the gun oil that’s been in his satchel for over three months. Yeah, it was an easy choice for him to make.

With his fingers and cock greased up, Chris pulled Peter’s hand away and began to run his fingers along the tight furl of Peter’s hole. It was starting to soften now that Peter had his finger in it for a few moments and Chris was able to easily slide one thick finger in.

He bit back a noise at the tight warmth that surrounded him. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how good it was going to feel around his dick rather than just his finger. He hadn’t had sex since Victoria died, probably about five or six years ago at that point. It wasn’t that he didn’t get propositioned for sex — the vast majority of money in the town came from the brothel and the ladies there made their rounds in the bar frequently — but he just couldn’t imagine actually fucking anybody else.

That feeling was gone for the time being, however. Maybe he would feel some guilt later, after the venom had made its way through his system, but as it was, he had no room for anything but need in his mind.

After a few moments of slowly fucking Peter with his index finger, he added in a second digit. “Finally,” Peter said with a sigh as Chris started to scissor those two fingers. “I thought you fell asleep on me for a moment.”

Chris felt his eye twitch. If Peter wanted to be a brat and goad him into going through the process faster, he’d do that. He pumped his fingers in and out a few times, scissoring them all the while, and then pulled them free well before Peter was stretched out enough for it to be comfortable for him.

“Sorry that I’m too slow for you, I’ll try and fix that.” Chris lined up his cock with Peter’s hole and began to slide it in. He didn’t go particularly fast — actually, he thought he restrained himself pretty well from just slamming in — but he could tell by Peter’s hiss and the way his ass tightened up around his cock, he still was going far too quickly. But, really, Peter was the one who wanted him to take things faster.

Pettiness aside, god, it felt amazing to have something around his cock that wasn’t his hand for the first time in years. Even better was how he finally felt like he was getting some relief from the venom in his system. He couldn’t help the moan that slid from his lips as he bottomed out in Peter. Because he wasn’t a complete bastard, Chris wrapped his hand around Peter’s still rock hard cock and stroked it as he stayed still for a few moments.

“It’s really amazing just how effective vampire venom is. I can tell that you’re going to come as soon as you start actually fucking me, and I doubt you’ll even go soft or have to pull out afterwards,” Peter said as he looked up at Chris through slitted eyes. He wrapped his legs around Chris’s waist and flexed his hips to fuck himself. 

Chris saw white as Peter did that. He wanted to argue with his statement for the sake of his pride, but he was also certain that Peter wasn’t wrong. The combination of not having sex for literal years and the venom running through his veins was lethal for his ability to last. Hell, he just hoped that Peter was right about him not needing to take a break after coming for the first time.

“What do I have to do to get you to shut the hell up, Peter?” Even if he knew Peter was right, he sure as hell wasn’t about to admit it. 

Peter smirked at him. “Actually fucking me instead of making me do everything might work.”

God he was such a dick. A handsome, painfully attractive dick.

Chris snarled and snapped his hips back before slamming them back into Peter. He was starting to loosen up but he was still far too tight. It wasn’t a problem for Chris, it was the opposite of one for him, but from the small noise of discomfort Peter made, he knew it was a bother for him. But Peter was the one goading him on, and some small rational part of Chris’s mind knew that this was what Peter was going for, but that part was small and overshadowed by the venom’s influence.

Chris let go of Peter’s cock to wrap his hands around his thighs so he could get a better angle to fuck into him at. He wasn’t gentle, he felt his nails dig into flesh, but at Peter’s pleased hiss, he knew it was fine. 

“There you go.” Peter began to stroke his own dick now that Chris had let go of it. He looked like the damn cat that caught the canary, pleased that he was getting what he wanted. Chris could have said something to fight with him, but he couldn’t deny that he was getting what he wanted too. Well, he was getting what the venom in his veins made him want at least.

“I’ve been —  _ mm _ — wanting to see what you could do with your dick for ages,” Peter purred. He thumbed the head of his cock and tightened his ass around Chris’s dick in a way that made Chris groan. “Figured we’d end up like this one day or —  _ fuck _ — something like that.”

That was a lot to process and Chris didn’t exactly have the mental capacity to do that at the moment. So that was a statement that got tucked away for him to question Peter over later. But for the time being, Chris was focused on the fact that the way Peter was clenching his ass around him sent him right over the edge and his hips stuttered as he came for the first time that day.

“ _ Fuck _ , Peter,” Chris groaned and doubled over, breathing heavily. Peter had been right, as much as the orgasm was a temporary relief, he didn’t even get soft and it was seconds before the same burning need returned to him. Still, he lasted longer than he had expected he would. A minute and a half of fucking before coming wasn’t exactly something to be proud of, but it was better than embarrassing himself by coming as soon as he slid in.

Yeah, he could see how this was useful at the brothels. He was sensitive as hell and he would have settled for literally anyone to handle the need. He could have been fucking the ugliest old man in the world and it would have felt like the best sex he ever had in his life.

Even with his frustrating personality, Peter wasn’t what anyone would consider an ugly old man and Chris figured that even without the venom, he would be a pretty good lay. So all things considered, his current company wasn’t exactly unfortunate for him.

He barely finished coming when he started to thrust into Peter again, hard and fast. Yeah, the other benefit of Peter being the one he had to sleep with was that his stamina as a werewolf meant he’d actually be able to keep up with Chris’s heightened libido. Chris figured that he’d be like this for maybe about another hour. He was lucky that the vamp hadn’t gotten a serious bite into him or else he’d be trapped in the hell of need for half a day at the very least.

Blood leaked out from Peter’s thighs where Chris’s nails dug in hard enough to break skin. He briefly considered letting go so the wounds would heal up, but he remembered the pleased noise Peter made when he first dug his nails in. That thought in mind, Chris pressed harder and dragged his nails down, scratching lines in flesh.

Peter came when Chris did that, legs tightening around Chris’s waist hard enough that Chris swore he felt his ribs creak in protest. Peter threw his head back as he came and let out a heavy moan. He looked absolutely gorgeous as he came, eyes closed and face devoid of smug smirk for once. 

As Peter came down from his orgasm, Chris pried his legs off of him and flipped him over onto his belly. He was able to pick up an even stronger rhythm in that position and the slap of skin on skin and groans of pleasure from both of them managed to drown out the noise of the wind outside the cabin. 

It was goddamn incredible.

——

“That really was quite the bonding experience, wasn’t it?” Peter leaned up against Chris’s door frame and inspected the vial of venom in his hand. They had gotten back to town three hours ago after about a week away from town.

In the days after the venom wore off, they hadn’t spoken much. Peter had actually just shifted back into his lupine form to wrap around Chris and keep him warm as he slept off the hangover-like come down of the venom. Chris wasn’t exactly displeased by that— to him, wolf Peter and humanoid Peter were two completely separate beings and he didn’t have to think about the fact that he had spent three hours fucking Peter hard enough that if he were human, he wouldn’t be able to sit down or ride a horse for weeks.

“What do you want, Peter?” Chris ground out, trying to close his door but Peter managed to slip a shoulder in before he could.

“Really, you don’t have to keep pretending that you hate me. I know that you were petting my neck and shoulders when I was laying with you.” Yeah, unfortunately, they weren’t two completely separate beings and Peter was indeed aware of everything that happened when he was shifted.

“I’m not pretending to dislike you, Peter, I actually don’t like you.” Chris rolled his eyes and let Peter force his way into his small house. 

Peter walked in like he owned the damn place and sat down on Chris’s favorite chair right by the fireplace. He was still fucking with the vial in his hand the entire time. “It’s really cute how you’ve convinced yourself of that. Let’s face it, Christopher, you need allies. You’re a wanted man on the east coast and no hunter’s ever going to work with you.”

Chris gritted his teeth and crossed his arms firmly across his chest, not liking where this was going. “What are you getting at, Peter?”

“Well, officially I’m here because the Hale pack is going to lend its support to you if you hunt down creatures that actually deserve to die. Vampires like Miss Walking Rotting Corpse, kanimas, etcetera, etcetera. My dear sister will be the one to decide if you actually will go out on a hunt and she’ll give you all the support you need. Whether it’s someone to assist you, new weapons, money, anything, she’ll get it to you.” Peter tilted his head ever so slightly and a smirk tugged at his lips. “Unofficially, I’m here because I think you and I have some things we need to discuss.”

Chris’s stomach tightened as Peter spoke. The Hale pack, they were respectable and honest. If Talia Hale gave her word on something, she was going to follow through. But the idea of being tied to werewolves after Victoria, it made his stomach churn. But Peter was right, he needed the assistance. At some point, Gerard was going to send people after him and he needed strong allies.

“I’m not joining your pack and I refuse to get the bite,” Chris ground out. “But I’ll accept her assistance.”

“We weren’t offering you the bite, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Peter raised an eyebrow and let out a laugh. “You don’t trust werewolves and werewolves don’t trust hunters. This isn’t an invitation to go to church with us on Sundays so don’t worry about that.”

Okay. That was better than what he was expecting.

“Fine, you can let Talia know that I accept.”

“Well, that’s one order of business done. You still haven’t acknowledged my more important reason to be here, though.”

Chris took a deep breath and forced himself to count to three before he responded. “I don’t think we have anything we need to discuss. I was affected by vampire venom and that was that. Quite honestly, I was hoping for us to never discuss it.”

Peter rolled his eyes and set the bottle of venom down on the side table. “Christopher, let me put this to you simply. You are attracted to me and I am attracted to you. Really, it’s pretty fortunate that the vampire ended up biting you because I’d hate to have to keep dancing around each other when Talia sends me out to help you on hunts.”

“I wouldn’t dance around anything and I think I’ve put it down simply for you as well, Peter. I do not like you. You might be attractive but you ruin every ounce of charm as soon as you open your mouth to speak.” Chris was incredulous. Peter was seriously propositioning him.

Peter smirked. “I think I’m actually quite charming. You might think so too if you didn’t try so hard to hate me.”

Holy shit, how full of himself was this man? “Peter—”

“Christopher, do me a favor and shut up and listen,” Peter cut him off and Chris felt ready to pull out one of his wolfsbane laced bullets. “I’m not saying that we go to balls together or have lovely picnics in the meadows. What our little journey showed us is that we are very compatible sexually, even if you were beyond gone on a venom trip. So, every few nights I’ll come over, we have a roll in the hay, and then, if you want me to, I’ll leave.”

That was… fairly reasonable actually. Suspiciously reasonable. “What’s your angle here?”

Peter barked out a laugh. “God, you are so suspicious of me, it’s almost cute. My angle here is that I quite enjoy sex and, when you get back into the swing of things, you’ll be quite good at it. Even with how rusty you were, I have no complaints from the other day.”

“Insulting me isn’t exactly the way to my heart.”

“Dear god, Christopher, I’m not looking for your heart I’m looking to get fucked.” Peter rolled his eyes and stood up, crossing the room in a few long strides until he stood in front of Chris. “I don’t particularly care one way or the other if you like me or not but you need to stop deluding yourself into thinking that you don’t want to sleep with me again.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. Some part of him wanted to agree to Peter’s arrangement, but the more reasonable side of him was screaming that Peter had something planned. “I’m sure you can find easy fucks whenever you want and I’ve done just fine on my own the past several years, I don’t see why this would really benefit both of us.”

“Are you being purposefully dense?” Peter scoffed. “There’s plenty of benefit in here for you and for me, you just don’t want to admit to it.”

Peter brushed past Chris, close enough that their shoulders rubbed against each other. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, Christopher. I’ll leave you with a vial of venom, and you can use it to let me know which choice you’re taking; the right one or the one where you choose to cock block yourself because you don’t want to admit that you liked fucking me.”

With that, Peter was gone, leaving Chris incredulously staring at the small vial of venom on his side table. In all of his life, never before had he experienced someone like Peter goddamned Hale. The type of smug bastard who was always convinced he was right and bullied everyone else into going his way.

Fuck. The worst part was that Chris already knew what his choice was going to be and it was going to make Peter even more smug and unbearable.

He really never should have accepted that damn bounty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm imagining like a reality show segment where it's like the interview footage with Chris going "You know, I really like to keep my entries subtle so I can scope out a scenario before I'm noticed" and it's immediately followed by footage of Peter kicking down the door going "Wakey wakey, time to die" while Chris watches, stunned.  
> There is no restraining Peter, he is a destructive force of nature LOL

**Author's Note:**

> I love cowboy content lmao, originally I was gonna have this as a more standard western in the desert but then I was like oh shit wait what if it was in wyoming or something. So that culminated in me realizing that I could make peter and chris have to cuddle together for warmth aka the best shit in the universe.  
> Also if you're confused by the vampire sex venom tag, it's like a standard for me LOL, if you look at any of my monster AUs for Overwatch the majority of them have sex venom going on because It's Tasty and essentially it's just that vamps subdue their prey by secreting an aphrodisiac. It's just an excuse for sex pollen honestly


End file.
